Furnunculus and Stupefy don't Mix
by Marietta1995
Summary: I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. They were a brilliant green like always, but so sad. A shiver passed though my body as he grabbed my hand, pulling me into his warm embrace. I clung to him, desperate to rid myself of the grim finality weighing down my heart. It was a familiar feeling, one I hadn't felt since my first potions class of the year; the day my life had changed forever.
1. Curses that Burn

**Hello there, please take into account that I don't own the Harry Potter universe. There's no need to sue anyone, thank you very much.**

* * *

Professor Jennings was late. Again.

I sat at my empty desk, quickly skimming over my fifth year potions book. I played with the frayed edges of the cover as my eyes scanned its content. My mind busied itself with the instructions of a fascinating brew, the Polyjuice Potion. It helped fend off the madness that surrounded me.

Students were lazed around the dungeon, passing stories back and forth of their latest endeavor during summer break. There were stories of rabid gnomes, potions gone wrong, and even a runaway broom. Everyone was telling their story.

Everyone that is, except for me.

No one minded, or cared, as usual. I had never been much of a talker. Social situations didn't come to natural to me. When I first arrived in Hogwarts, I had the worst stutter and could barely stand still if someone's gaze met mine for too long. People did try to assimilate me into the house, in the end. But the shyness seemed to envelope me. It wasn't something that would break in a weak, like they expected.

If I was sorted into Hufflepuff, they probably would have stuck by me day by day, waiting patiently for me to open up. But in Gryffindor, you had to be brave. You had to put the first foot forward and show that you're brave enough to be in the house.

So, by the time I grew comfortable enough to talk to everyone, no one cared. No one noticed the soft voice that tried to get their attention in their second year. No one noticed when the voice slowly became louder and louder. No one noticed when the voice stopped trying to speak to them altogether. I had tried four years to get them to acknowledge me in some way, but nothing would work.

To the rest of the Gryffindors, I was still the unbearably shy first year that constantly tripped over her stutter.

So, when I heard a faint scrape of the stool on the ground next to me, I nearly fell over in shock.

No one had sat next to me since my first year.

I tilted my head to the side, finding a pair of brown eyes staring intently at me. The shy girl in me pleaded with me to look away, but I refused to back down. I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, even if the others didn't recognize it.

I glanced at the curious boy who sat beside me. He had a light pallor of skin, although not as light as mine, with messy ink black hair. His almond-shaped eyes scrutinized me carefully. He looked familiar…

With a jolt, I realized who had chosen to sit next to me.

It was Aiden Potter.

I mentally face-palmed myself. How could I not recognize him right away? He was the grandson of Harry-freaking-Potter!

I began to wallow in self-pity for my stupidity, but then noticed something in Aiden's expression. It was as if… he were waiting for something.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, voice a bit rusty from disuse.

Aiden's eyes widened.

"You do talk…" he whispered, eyes wide with wonder.

I tried my best not to let a frown twist on my face. Was that all he had to say?

"Yes." I said carefully. "I've been able to talk since I was young."

Aiden laughed.

"Yeah, I'd imagine so…" he sighed, slightly embarrassed at his previous statement.

I smiled a bit, suddenly uncomfortable. No one had ever talked to me for this long. But, Aiden seemed to not notice.

"So…" he started, stretching out the 'o' sound, "How was your summer."

I froze. Should I tell him?

"It was okay." I said, grimacing a little. He caught this.

"Are you sure?" Aiden questioned. "The expression on your face says otherwise."

I sighed at the expectant look on his face.

"It was lonely." I muttered, looking at my hands on the desk.

Glancing back up, I saw that Aiden seemed confused.

"What about your family?" He asked quietly. I gave him a small smile, slipping my hand into my robe pocket and fingering the Polaroid photo I always kept in there.

Mrs. Stokes had given me it on my tenth birthday, explaining that the couple in it was my mother and father. It was a happy little photo. My mother appeared to be only seventeen; the same as my father by the looks of it. But it was her appearance that fascinated me. We could have been twins if we were the same age. All our features were similar; from the same cheeky smile to the same blond hair, although hers was slightly longer. My father on the other hand wasn't looking at the camera, but at the baby he held in his arms, me. All I knew was that he had short, messy, inky hair. My mother sat next to him and grinned widely at the camera as if she were hiding a secret.

I retracted my hand from my pocket, feeling warmth spread through my core at the thought of the picture. But, I wished that I could see them, that they were still here. Mrs. Stokes had told me that they died in a car crash a month after my birth and that they were an odd couple to say the least.

I pushed away the depressing thoughts, focusing on the curious Aiden.

"I don't have a family." I said softly, putting on a neutral facade.

An odd look flashed over Aiden's face.

"Sorry!" He exclaimed, looking horrified. "I didn't know!"

I smiled at his apparent distress.

"No, don't worry." I said, trying to placate his panic. "You had no reason to know."

He managed to return to normal after a few seconds.

"Heh… yeah." he muttered, smiling again. "So do you live at an orphanage or something?"

My stomach sank at the thought of Mrs. Stokes and the orphanage, but the innocent look on Aiden's face softened the fear.

I opened my mouth to answer 'yes', but a snide voice interrupted me.

"Talking to parent-less scum, Potter?" a thick boy with dark curly hair sneered.

Aiden glanced over in distaste.

"Shove off, Goyle." he dismissed.

Callum Goyle narrowed his eyes at the black-haired boy.

"No, I don't think I will to be honest." He said, leaning closer to me. "I've never seen this one talk before."

I cringed away from his rancid breath.

"I said shove off." Aiden spat.

Goyle cocked a brow.

"Why don't you make me." he smirked, flicking his wand.

A sudden force sent me flying off my stool, tossing me to the stone ground with a large crack. I blinked repeatedly as black spots danced across my eyes for a moment.

Aiden leaped from his seat, growling furiously at the Slytherin.

The boys sent spells at each other, filling the dungeons with flashes of multi-colored lights. Large crashes resounded across the room as empty vials exploded from misfired shots. I lurched to my feet, noting the students scurrying across the classroom.

Someone was going to get hurt at this rate.

So, with distinct steps, I placed myself between the feuding boys.

"Get out of the way!" Goyle snarled, trying to push me away as Aiden struggled to aim around me.

"No!" I said loudly, but firmly. Students gaped at my sudden outburst. "That's enough. Someone's going to get hurt."

Goyle was livid.

"Sure." he muttered darkly, before aiming his wand at my chest. "Someone's going to get hurt alright."

Aiden's eyes flashed with recognition and fear, jumping into action a moment before Goyle muttered his curse.

Unfortunately, Aiden's aim was off.

"Furnunculus!"

"Stupefy!"

Both spells landed above my heart, ripping me away from my position on the ground. I tumbled back over the table behind me, taking different potions ingredients with me.

I landed on the ground spitting essence of murtlap. Ingredients covered me from head to toe.

Goyle burst into laughter.

"Barrows!" Aiden cried, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean t…"

The Gryffindor trailed off as he stared at me with horrified eyes. Even Goyle stopped chortling long enough to gape at me.

"What…" he spluttered, pointing his finger in my direction.

I looked down where I sat. I was covered in different ingredients, but nothing gape-worthy. A sudden flash of light caught my attention.

The spot above my heart, where the two boy's spells had hit, emitted a shining blue light. I gazed down at it wonderingly.

"This…" I began to say, but found myself interrupted as it slowly began to cover my skin, burning wherever it touched.

For a moment, I wondered if this was what a crutiatus curse felt like.

A scream tore through my throat as I fell back to the ground with a sickening snap. The burning wouldn't stop… wouldn't…

Aiden dropped to my side, desperately making a grab for my head as I almost cracked it against the stone floor. He held my head securely in his lap, looking around with wild eyes.

"Someone, do something!" he yelled as I began to convulse.

Why wouldn't the burning stop?

Everyone stood still, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, immobilized by shock.

"Burning…" I whimpered. "Why am I burning?"

Aiden gently shushed me.

"It's okay, we'll stop the burning." He whispered into my ear. "You'll be fine."

The light expanded, covering the right half of my body. My guttural cries were endless, filling the dungeons with the sounds of my pain.

"Get Lucas!" I screamed as the light began to spread faster and faster. Aiden gently placed my head on the ground, jumping up.

The burning wouldn't abate.

Why wouldn't it stop?

"Aiden, please…" I whispered as the light enveloped me, covering my body fully.

All I could see was that light blue light, and then… nothing.

The space around me plunged into darkness as I felt my body falling.

I fell and fell and fell.

I didn't know how long I was falling. I felt detached in a way as utter silence surrounded me.

It was suffocating me.

…

A dull light hit my eyes as I felt my body connect with something hard. I hit the mass before tumbling off and hitting the stone ground with a large crack.

I clutched my head, still shaking from the blue light. The pain I felt now was nothing to the torture I experienced minutes ago.

I opened my eyes, breathing out a breathy sigh of relief.

I needed to know what happened.

My eyes scanned the room and with a slight shock, I realized I was back in the dungeon, except it looked… different.

It still held a dark and melancholy appearance, but the walls seemed to be less grimy, if that was possible. I noted that the object I managed to fall on was a large stack of pewter cauldrons, which now littered the floor around me.

"Weird," I mumbled distantly, "Professor Jennings never has any cauldrons in the classroom."

I noticed that my vision began to blur. I attempted to raise my arm to wipe at my eyes, but the limb remained immobile.

Was I dying?

The door next to me burst open at the thought.

What was going on…

The sound of dull thuds slapping against the ground seemed to be wavering now.

Everything was becoming colder.

The world slowly slipped away from me at the point, leaving me only with the image of an infuriated man with greasy, black hair glaring down at me with cold, relentless eyes.

'Did we get a new professor?' I thought, moments before I blacked out completely.

….

I sluggishly cracked open my eyes, barely aware of the pounding in my skull.

The first thing I noticed was that it was actually light streaming through the arched windows, opposite to the murky gloom of the dungeon. I pushed myself into a sitting position, analyzing the area around me.

It was the Hospital Wing.

I sighed contentedly, wondering if the disgruntled man from earlier had brought me to Madame Graham. I always like her.

Not wanting to make a big deal, I slumped back onto my pillow, wanting to sleep the aches away. It had escaped my notice to begin with, but my body was sore. For a moment, I ran over what had happened, trying to decipher what the blue light had been.

But, a slight cough distracted me from my thoughts.

Turning my head lazily to the side, I instantly shot up the moment I noticed that there was man sitting in a chair next to my cot.

My heart nearly stopped.

It was an old wizard with the longest, whitest beard I'd ever seen. Something clicked in my brain, but I couldn't think of where I'd seen the man before.

His old weathered face broke into a smile as his blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses.

"Well," he chuckled, obviously shocked by my reaction to him being there, "it seems as if you had quite a fall."

Not trusting myself to speak, I managed a nod. He took it with a knowing smile.

Was he another new professor?

"Sorry to give you a scare. Miss…"

I took a deep breath.

"Barrows, Gwendolyn Barrows." I muttered, not noticing the confused look pass his face.

"Well, Miss Barrows, would you like to tell me what happened to you?"

I stared at him momentarily, praying that he wouldn't be too hard on the boys.

"Sure." I sighed, keeping my eyes on the empty cot in front of me as I began to retell my story.

"I was talking to Aiden Potter while waiting for Professor Jennings to arrive. He's always late to his Potions class you see…" I began, suddenly eager to finish the story. "While Aiden and I were talking about our summer vacation, Callum Goyle came up and started provoking Potter. I was thrown off my chair with a flick of his wand.

"They began dueling and I was afraid that they might hurt someone. So I stepped between them and needless to say, I accidentally got hit by their curses at the exact same time, right here." I pointed at the spot above my heart, half expecting to find it glowing blue.

"There was a blue light." I said quickly, not wanting to relive the pain I had been in. "It kind of surrounded me and then, I was falling. I ended up landing back into the classroom but I fell into a pile of cauldrons sitting around there. Except… I'm pretty sure they weren't there before. And that's it. I fainted right after that."

I lifted my head to see a perturbed expression on the old man's face.

"You mentioned Mr. Potter and Mr. Goyle." He began, looking as if he was calculating something in his mind. "Did you mean _Harry_ Potter and _Gregory_ Goyle?"

I stared at the elder wizard before letting out a small giggle.

Shock flickered in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir." I said softly, containing the girlish squeaks. "But I have no idea who Gregory Goyle is. Also, I doubt that Harry Potter would be in a 5th year potions classroom, talking to me. Now talking to Aiden would be understandable seeing as he's his grandson and all."

The man's face paled.

"Did you say grandson?" He enquired.

I gawked at him, thoroughly confused.

I thought everyone knew the Potter family.

"Yes, sir. That's what he is." I told him quietly.

The old man's calculating face returned as he silently worked something out in his head. We sat there for minutes as he continued to think. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke again.

"I know this might sound odd, but what is the month, day, and year?"

I gave him a strange look, but stared ahead again, trying to think.

"How many days have I been asleep?" I questioned.

"Two." he said simply.

"Alright." I said, thinking it over. "Then today would be September 4, 2053."

The man looked at me grimly.

"Miss Barrows, I think that there's more to your accident than a simple fall."

"What do you mean, sir?" I asked confused.

I told him everything that happened, excluding the light's pain. That should have been enough, right?

I glanced down, afraid to find myself burnt to a crisp or horribly maimed. But, when I looked over myself, I found that nothing had changed. So, what was it then?

I eyed the old man questioningly.

He heaved a great sigh.

"Miss Barrows." He began carefully. "That's not todays date."

I let out the breath I'd been unconsciously holding and began to laugh.

"I'm sorry." I said shakily, trying not to laugh in relief of not being told that I had a third eye or something. "What is the date then, sir?"

A somber look painted his face.

"Miss Barrows," he began grimly, "I'm not sure what happened to you, but there might not be a way to help you right now."

"Then what does the date have to do with this?" I questioned, nerves building in my stomach. "I only fell."

I looked at the wizard expectantly, causing him to sigh again. He suddenly seemed much older as he muttered out what the problem was.

"Miss Barrows, you seemed to travel in time." He stated heavily.

My mouth popped open.

"W-w-wait! W-what?" I stuttered, looking at the man in shock.

Pity flashed across his face before he uttered a sentence, a sentence that would change my life forever.

"Please forgive me, but today's date is September 1st, 1995."

I stared at him blankly.

"Welcome to the past, Miss Barrows."

* * *

**Alright, here's the deal. If you think this is a bit familiar... then hey! Thanks for bothering to remember my other story by the same name. This is a rewrite of a fanfic I started a little less than a year ago. But, it was ill planned, so, I started to start from the beginning. I'm far better than I was as a writer months and months ago, so this should hopefully work out all right. **

**Updating wise, it'll be on a rotation schedule with my two other Doctor Who stories "The Girl Who Keeps on Running" and "Hello, Raggedy Man." This helps with the writers block I tend to get every month or so. **

**Anyways, tell me what you think. Review it, follow it, favorite it if you want to! I don't entirely care, it's all up to you guys. **

**Next Time:**

I pushed open the wooden door, looking forward at the the Headmaster, barely noticing the bushy-haired student beside him. She stood up perfectly straight eyeing me with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity.

A weary smile played on my lips at the sight.

"Ah," Dumbledore beamed, waving me forward. "Miss Barrows, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

I shuffled forward as he nodded to the girl standing to his left.

"Hello." She spoke softly, watching me carefully with intelligent eyes. "My name is Hermione Granger."


	2. The Bushy-Haired Accomplice

**Nope, I really don't own the Harry Potter universe. I think that much is obvious...**

* * *

"Welcome to the past, Miss Barrows."

I gaped at the old man, resembling a fish.

"That's not funny." I muttered, eying the elderly wizard in disbelief. "It really isn't."

The old man sighed and gave me another eye-crinkling smile. Something nagged at my memories again. I was sure I'd seen him before, but where? My eyes scrutinized his face for a moment. Those blue eyes… those half-moon glasses… that long, snowy beard…

I gasped as the memory finally surfaced.

_I sat in the Headmaster's office, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to spill over. Professor Lucas smiled sympathetically as he listened to my childish cries. It was my third year, and the constant isolation at the orphanage and Hogwarts was taking its toll. _

_"Mrs. Stokes, s-s-she th-thinks that-t I-I-I'm some s-sort of freak!" I whispered, hands trying to wipe away the fast-falling tears. "This is the fifth year she's kept me locked up in t-that r-r-room. I can't even remember the others' faces anymore."_

_Professor Lucas gazed at my small, shaking figure with pity. His frail hand passed me a handkerchief. _

_I dabbed the cloth against my face furiously._

_"Remember," the Headmaster wheezed, reminding me of his old age, "our trials make us who we are. Those that you face will not only bring despair, but will help turn you into the great witch you're destined to be, just like everyone else."_

_Professor Lucas smiled the same knowing smile as my mother's in the picture, as if he knew something I didn't._

_My sobs died down._

_I peeked up at him from behind my hands, hope swelling within me as a knock sounded on the door. Lucas slowly stood up to answer the call._

_Could he be telling the truth? _

_Did the Headmaster really believe I'd be great?_

_"He is right, you know."_

_My teary eyes snapped upward to one of the paintings of the previous headmasters. It was a strange wizard with snow white hair, twinkling eyes, and half-moon glasses._

_"H-h-how d-do you know-w that?" I muttered apprehensively. "H-how can I be great if n-no one n-notices m-m-me?"_

_The deceased professor smiled._

_"Trust me, I know."_

_The wizard closed his eyes, feigning sleep._

_Sighing, I dropped my eyes to the nameplate, wondering what past headmaster would bother to place his faith in someone like me. It took me a moment, but I finally deciphered the name._

_It was Albus Dumbledore._

I nearly jumped out of my bed.

"You're _him_!" I exclaimed faintly. "From the portrait; you're Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in shock.

"You know me?" He questioned, looking intrigued.

I took a shaky breath, trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

"I met your portrait in Headmaster Lucas's office." I muttered, massaging my temples.

What on earth was happening?

Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

"There's no need to tell me anything else. I don't want to know something more than I already should." He began. "But, as you didn't arrive with a time-turner, you'll have to stay here for the time being."

I nodded faintly.

This was real, wasn't it? Any other explanation didn't seem to fit in my mind.

I had actually travelled back in time.

"Now, I can see you're a Gryffindor." He pointed at my dirty robes as I struggled to keep calm. "I see no reason to change your house placement."

I let out a shaky sigh of relief. Knowing my luck, I'd be put in Slytherin.

"But, the problem will come with your background. Can you tell me about your family?" He asked quietly.

I settled back into my cot again, trying to avoid Dumbledore's eyes. I was afraid that I would find more pity in them.

"I don't have a family sir." I muttered, looking firmly at the clenched hands in my lap. "I was orphaned at the George Kelly Orphanage when I was a month old. No one ever told me my parents' name. Although, the matron did give me a picture."

Silently, I patted down my pockets and found the photo with a relieved sigh, immediately handing it to Dumbledore. His eyes glinted with amusement as they roved over the couple holding me as a baby.

"You look just like your mother." He murmured, smiling. "And your father…"

Dumbledore thought for a moment.

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting them as they have yet to exist." He added. "Or anyone else in this school with the last name of 'Barrows' for that matter."

The small inane hopes building slowly from within me plummeted. It was idiotic to even consider hoping that I would be able to meet some of my long-lost family, not that I'd know what to say to them. You couldn't exactly introduce yourself to a stranger as their future descendant. They'd cart me off to St. Mungo's instantly. Sighing, I turned my attention back to Dumbledore.

"May I just use my actual name and background then?" I asked. "I'll just tell people that I'm a muggleborn since I can't exactly prove otherwise."

Dumbledore happily nodded.

"All we need know is why you're here."

I thought quietly for a moment, struggling to come up with a coherent excuse. Then, it came to me.

"I could be sick." I thought, smothering the nerves that erupted in my stomach. I'd never been the best liar. "For the past six years, I'd caught a pretty bad sickness. So, I couldn't come to Hogwarts until I was cured."

If possible, Dumbledore's smile grew wider.

"Well said, Miss Barrows." he stated thoughtfully. "I'm sure I'll be able to come up with some records for you. I'll vouch for your excuse. I could be a friend of your parents before they died in, let's say… the war."

I stared at the Headmaster confusedly.

"War?" I asked.

Dumbledore's smile faltered, eyes turning grim.

"The war against Voldemort," He stated somberly.

I furrowed my brows, trying to pick at my limited knowledge from Professor Binn's class.

"First or second?" I asked, trying to get a sense of where I was event-wise.

After all, History of Magic had never been my favorite subject.

"First." Dumbledore said tiredly. "But seeing as Voldemort recently was resurrected, I'd say a second war is on the horizon."

I flushed, realizing what I'd said.

"Sorry…" I muttered abashedly.

Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"No need." He assured me. "Just be sure to be careful. You can't let the future be known by anyone."

I nodded solemnly, causing the Headmaster to let out a grand laugh.

"Now, why don't we head to the feast? Everyone should be arriving soon."

I gulped, slipping out of my cot as Dumbledore strode out of the room.

I started to follow until the sight of my robes caught my eyes. They were rancid, still covered in the dried potion ingredients from earlier.

I frowned, searching my pockets for my wand. Pulling out the sleek piece of wood, I aimed it at myself.

"_Scourgify"_

I sighed in relief as the grime was siphoned off my robes.

It was then, as I stood completely ready to exit the Hospital Wing, that I realized what was about to happen.

A new student was about to enter Hogwarts, becoming the center of attention, something curious to observe.

I groaned, hoping that the Gryffindors wouldn't bombard me with question after question. The mere idea of having the entire school staring at the 'new girl' made me want to hurl.

Just like my first year…

With that delightful thought, I slid through the doorway, bracing myself for the onslaught of questions destined to come.

…..

I stared at the madness before me with a nervous groan.

Students poured into the Great Hall, filling staircase after staircase as they crowded the entrance. It looked almost dangerous to even attempt to join in.

So, taking a deep breath and mustering up any of my Gryffindor courage, I dove into the crowd.

Students elbowed me left and right, rushing to enter the hall. I struggled to push my way through, but I only ended up being shoved straight into another student.

"I-I'm so sorry!" I squeaked, backing away from the innocent student.

I looked up in embarrassment, only to feel the blood drain from my face.

The rumble of my surrounding drained away at the sight of the figure before me.

"Aiden?" I whispered faintly. "How did you get here?"

Had it been a trick all along?

However, the boy before me only responded stunned and confused look.

"Aiden…" He said slowly.

With a jolt, I realized that the boy before me wasn't Aiden. They had the same short messy, jet black hair, but Aiden was much shorter and had muddy brown eyes. This boy however, had brilliant green eyes.

I stood there for a moment, mesmerized by the greens that seemed to swirl together behind his glasses. That is, until I remembered what had happened.

Feeling my cheeks burn, I looked down at my feet, saying, "S-sorry. Wrong person." Before turning and pushing myself through the throng of students.

I ducked my head, trying not to let the embarrassment overtake me.

Of course it wasn't Aiden. The idea was laughable.

I was in this alone.

The group of students finally managed to diminish as they found their places at each table.

I let out a breath of relief, navigating my way to sit with the other Gryffindors. Most were happily chatting away about their summer breaks. A strong sense of nostalgia washed through me at the sounds of their stories. It was just like potions class…

I slumped into an empty space of benches, trying to avoid the Gryffindor's curious gazes. Some of the older students finally realized my presence. Resolutely, I fixed my stare to the golden plate in front of me, staring at my dreary, warped reflection.

It was then that Dumbledore called for everyone's attention. He gave instructions strikingly similar to those that Headmaster Lucas provided during his speeches. Sit down, stay silent, and respect the first years as they enter the Great Hall. At least, those were the basics. Dumbledore was far more eloquent than Lucas.

The first years poured through the doors, faces ashen with nerves. They approached the front, eying the sorting hat with discontent. My heart went out to the eleven-year-olds. The Sorting was truly a nerve-wracking event.

A severe-looking professor approached the stool, looking off a list.

In the back of my mind, I noted not to annoy her in the least.

"Alban, Timothy"

A frail-looking boy stepped up to the hat.

"Slytherin"

Groans swept through the Gryffindor table at the introduction of another Slytherin. Glancing to the side, I watched the boy join his new house, noting with a fact that the Slytherins in this time seemed to look even more malicious than those that I grew up with.

The Slytherins had always been a nasty group, but in this time, they looked outright dreadful. I stared at one in particular, seeing him welcome the new boy. But when he caught my staring, he instantly glared, mouthing a string of crude curses.

I frowned, turning my gaze back to plate in front of me.

Yes, they were definitely not pleasant at all.

The professor continued to call off the role.

I continued my staring, finally realizing what a mess I'd gotten into. If I hadn't interfered with Aiden and Callum's duel…

I sighed, feeling tears swim in my eyes.

What was the use moping about it?

I wondered how I'd return to my time period. It was doubtful that the school was in panic over my disappearance. They probably wouldn't spend more than a day mourning my loss. Then it would be back to normal.

They'd forget me within the week.

I glanced around at the students, a feeling of dread filling my heart.

The scene before me was so familiar, so ordinary. But, in the end, it was another place I didn't belong.

It became harder and harder to breathe.

My eyes flickered from side to side, feeling the stares of others increase, each with a look of confusion flickering across their faces.

Breathe, I told myself. Breathe…

My breaths became shallower and shallower by the second.

I needed to get out of here.

I spun towards the front, meeting eyes with Dumbledore who had stood to welcome the newest students to Hogwarts. I hadn't even noticed that the sorting had ended.

Dumbledore immediately spotted my panicked demeanor, the pleading in my eyes. He gave a small nod.

Thanking the heavens that I sat at the end of the table, I slipped from my seat, heading for doors left slightly ajar. I ducked through them, trying to ignore the gazes on my back. Each stare seemed to be physically hurt.

I was all alone in this.

All alone…

And before I knew it, I was running.

I sprinted away from the double doors, hair whipping behind me in waves. I flitted through hall after hall, up staircase after staircase.

I needed to get away.

I needed to find a way back.

The stone walls seemed to fly by, not gathering an ounce of my concern.

And this was how I moved for what seemed like lifetimes.

Eventually, my feet shifted to a new path, a destination clear in my mind. It was where I went, where I always went whenever things became too much.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Climb.

Climb.

Climb.

Run.

Run.

Run.

I burst into the Astronomy tower minutes later, breathing heavily. The tower appeared identical to its future self, excluding random chips and pieces missing here and there.

I took a shaky step forward before collapsing to the ground, taking in greedy breaths of air.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I stared above at the stars twinkling in the night sky. The same stars, the same place, yet so different,

I let out a breathy sob, realizing I'd been in shock before.

What did I do to deserve this?

Every day, I lived my life in solitude and the one day I made contact with the outer world, this happened. Was it my punishment? Was this what I deserved?

None of this was right.

I curled onto my side, pulling out the Polaroid picture of my parents.

"What do I do?" I whispered. "What do I do?"

"That is entirely up to you, Miss Barrows."

I gasped, shuffling to my feet.

Dumbledore stood, smiling serenely at the night time sky.

Only the sounds of the wind whistling through the air could be heard at first.

"We are all faced with problems in our lifetimes." He ultimately stated sagely. "It shapes our very beings."

I sniffled, wiping away the stray tears from my face.

"But why?" I croaked. "Why this?"

Dumbledore stood silent for a moment.

I raised my gaze to the heavens as well.

Stars littered the skies, creating a variety of tiny pin pricks. The velvety sky was calming, clearing away all ounces of panic I held earlier.

Only a melancholic sadness remained.

"Accidents happen." He replied. "It's a great reminder that our actions have great effects on others, no matter how harmless they may seem."

I nodded wordlessly.

"Miss Barrows, I truly will help you to the best of my ability." The infamous Headmaster began. "Right now, as you probably understand, the relationship between the minister and I is strained. He will not give me access until Voldemort reveals himself, which I fear will be soon."

His words became somber at the mention of the notorious Dark Lord.

"Until then, I need you to be strong. You need to act normal. Because it seemed that you arrived at a very critical point in time."

I glanced at the headmaster, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

Dumbledore gave me a strained grin.

"The Ministry has felt the need to interfere with Hogwarts business. They've appointed their Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, to serve under the post of Defense against the Dark Arts."

I stiffened, mind dredging up memories of the witch from my History of Magic class.

She was the one who…

She…

"I don't like her." I stated grimly.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I had a feeling you might recognize her name." He started lightly. "But you must remain unsuspicious. Dolores Umbridge is not someone to trifle with in your situation."

I nodded morosely, deciding to change the subject, getting away from the building dislike within me.

"You'll really get me home?" I asked.

Dumbledore stared me in the eyes, serious as could be.

"I promise."

I sighed, turning my gaze to the pinpricked sky.

"Alright." I said simply, not knowing what else to say.

Dumbledore let out another chuckle.

"The sky is beautiful, but if you will, there is someone I'd like you to meet."

I turned to him curiously.

What did he mean?

But, he was already leaving.

…..

I pushed open the wooden door in front of me, looking at the recently seated Headmaster.

I barely managed to notice the bushy-haired student beside him. She stood up perfectly straight and poised, eying me with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity.

A weary smile played on my lips at the sight.

"Ah," Dumbledore beamed, waving me forward. "There you are. Miss Barrows, there is someone I'd like you to meet. "

I shuffled forward as he nodded to the girl standing to his left.

Who on Earth was she?

"Hello." She spoke softly, watching me carefully with her intelligent eyes. "My name is Hermione Granger."

* * *

**Thanks for reading another chapter. I'm having so much fun working out the plot. There will be fun, danger, and most important of all... young love. :)**

**Next Time:**

My first impression of the deplorable woman was that she looked exactly like a squat toad, a unnervingly sick squat toad. But to tell her that would be rude, no matter how much I wished to.

Dumbledore certainly wouldn't approve. The last thing I needed was for her harping on me and my secret.

So, I plastered on the politest smile I could manage, walking lightly across the room, and stopping in front of her desk.

"Hello." I greeted, watching her head instantly snap up. "My name is Gwendolyn Barrows. I just transferred here."


End file.
